The bedspread
by planet p
Summary: AU; Michelle's thoughts.


**The bedspread** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.

* * *

_The redhead sat cross-legged upon the Minnie Mouse bedspread, patiently clasping her hands in her lap as Sydney straightened her hair with a cheap purple plastic brush. For as long as she could remember, her hair always had had the most marvelous tendency to knot. She recalled her mum's therapy, a good yank or two. She yowled suddenly and turned her head to face Sydney._

_Michelle frowned. Leaning her cheek against his shoulder, she reached up and took the brush from him so he wouldn't brush her ear again. He seemed to be staring at the wall sadly, his brown eyes unfocused, their usual light somehow dimmed, the moon dust all gone now. Turning properly now, Michelle took his shoulders, a sudden powerful urge to shake him as if to ensure he had not stopped breathing._

"_Hey? Sydney? You __gonna__ look at me?"_

_Sydney blinked slowly as his attention returned to the woman before him, knelt upon her knees as though praying, her hands still clutching his shoulders. "Michelle?"_

_Michelle smiled vaguely, watching him very intently._

"_Michelle, I'm so sorry, I must have allowed my thoughts to run away with me. Are you okay?"_

_The redhead nodded. "I'm good. You?"_

_It was Sydney's turn to frown._

"_You just looked so sad," Michelle explained, a tinge of melancholy __colouring__ her voice. A tiny hopeful smile crossed her face. "Hug?"_

_Sydney's concerned frown was replaced by a smile. He reached out and pulled her into a hug, patting her hair absently._

_Michelle sighed, figuring it would be of little use arguing over this one. She had intended the question as an offer, not a plea for affection. It was too late now, she __realised__, wondering if this was not another defense mechanism, this avoiding of the issue._

_Losing Jacob had hurt her so very much. She wondered if she would ever be fully healed. It hardly seemed likely. But Jacob hadn't been her twin. And then to lose his best-friend also? All without raising the topic of his childhood and how the war had swept him up as a small child and stolen his parents from him, along with countless others he had no doubt cared for. She imagined that all reference points would have been shattered into a million tiny pieces and scattered across the earth as ashes would, caught by a passing wind and lost to the world forevermore._

_Michelle remembered all too painfully, it had been the same for Jacob, but cutting oneself off from the world would not bring consolation. It only served to further deepen the wounds. She imagined Sydney must feel so very alone. If only he would open up and acknowledge his past. Michelle felt so much anger some days. She wanted to shake him and yell until it sunk in. But she never did. She was too afraid. What if she could not fix it? But then, she knew she could never really fix it. It would always be there, waiting, lurking. Acceptance, acceptance was all there was now._

_She sniffed and felt her eyes well up with unbidden tears. It was a painful thing to acknowledge, but she knew Sydney did not love her as one may think, just as she did not love him the way she supposed she should._

_But still, she would try. She had to try, she __realised__, for Jacob's sake. She wondered if she was not going mad. It seemed a highly odd situation._

_Michelle blinked and shook her head softly. "Sydney?" __Realising__ he had fallen asleep she smiled and cautiously placed a kiss on his forehead. His breathing seemed to be okay. She lay down, pulling him down beside her, and stared up at the ceiling a while before hugging him once more and closing her eyes as she finally let sleep take her._

* * *

Michelle awoke with a start and sat bolt upright, the harsh moonlight streaming in the open window bathing the room in a surreal glow.

Despite the fact that she missed him dearly, she was glad Nicolas was no longer living at home. Her tossing and turning and waking at five in the morning would have upset him, she wagered fairly.

She rubbed her tired eyes and padded off towards the kitchen, the neon strip giving a tiny ping before dousing the tiled room in an icy light, eerie, much like mist descending. Michelle shivered and pulled her chunky knitted cardigan closer about her chest. Reaching across the table for a mint, she eased back into one of the kitchen chairs and absently watched the window above the sink, wondering what Sydney was doing. She smiled slightly, biting a corner of her mint. Probably sleeping, like he should be.

* * *

_26/09/2006_


End file.
